The Barber of La Manchaland: Outis's Story

The child is already so busy, so early in the morning.

Browsing through several layers of fabric, cutting them into shapes, and sewing them in various elaborate patterns with a needle as thick as her fingers.

And after the busyness passes, she stands in one spot and stares intently at something.

Hm... This seems slightly off-balance.

The child quickly sewed together a whole party dress and placed it on a mannequin.

It looked downright dazzling from a glance, but... perhaps there was something that the child found unsatisfying.

On a block again?

A high-pitched click-clack of heels cuts into the quiet, heavy atmosphere of the tailor's room...

... and a large shadow comes up to the child before coming to a stop.

Must you keep that parasol unfurled indoors as well? It blurs the colors on my artwork.

Didn't ya know? Sunlight is not the only enemy of maintaining smooth skin. Your harsh lighting doesn't help.

The other child was garbed in a garish purple dress and carried a large parasol with her. She replies, but doesn't look terribly interested.

She did not raise her head even once from her nails to look at the child, clearly uninterested in anything else that wasn't her.

... Hmph. I won't deny that.

So, what brings you to the tailor's room? Isn't the Parade beginning soon?

Well, that's exactly why I'm here.

Okay, which still does not answer my question.

You're gonna start moping and getting mad if I tell ya that I've been having some... problems with the dress you made.

Problems?!

Haah.

The child, with her nails painted purple as well, let out a small sigh. She could already see how the rest of this conversation was going to go.

... But she could hardly bring herself to attend the Parade in an imperfect costume, so unfit for the occasion.

So, unfortunately, she was left without a choice. She had to visit the tailor's room.

That is simply impossible! I measure and review every single thread that passes through my hands; not to mention that your costume was the one I put my utmost -

It's gotten loose down here.

I lost weight. Not your fault, okay?

Wha -

The child hurriedly approached her with a tape measure.

It's... true? Have you been skipping your meals...?

If by 'meals' you're referring to hemobars that taste like bricks... then no. 'Course not.

... Well, on the brighter side, this may be a chance to give a stylistic lift to that dress.

But I worry that your beautiful face may grow sunken.

Then I'll leave that up for you to deal with. It's your job to make me look cute, after all.

How about a beautiful mask for me?

... I suppose I can do that.

I agree that it is getting increasingly difficult to subsist on hemobars, given our recent... meal.

The child thinks back to the 'banquet', muttering to herself.

The child and her Family... hadn't had a real meal like that in a long, long time.

They had to convince a human, a guest here at La Manchaland...

Long did I assume that we were cursed to look hideous without masks... It seems that I was wrong.

The sheer flavor was one thing, but... I could hardly believe how we managed to go so long without a proper meal.

Mm... it certainly was a pleasant banquet.

I see that your tailor's scissors have grown as well, thanks to the blood.

Heh, that's why these scissors work so well now.

For a moment, the pair seemed to be reminiscing a certain shared memory together...

... before gritting their teeth.

I don't suppose... Father will be returning anytime soon.

From that adventure... for the helm.

Well, his powers are unparalleled and ineffable. Let's try not to make any hasty guesses.

Still, I guess the whole point in his eyes was that he wanted to go on an adventure like humans do, without his powers as a Bloodfiend, I suppose...

... At least for now, yes.

Yeah. And once he returns... you know what to do, right?

…….

Heavy silence fell upon them, but they both read in the eyes of one another a certain agreement.

A certain agreement to enact a plan... a plan so terrifying, that they couldn't even bring themselves to speak of it.